Reborn
by Lewd Concubine
Summary: He is a clean slate, purified by the unnatural desert rain, ready to be made anew. AizenByakuya Angst, Lime.


-1**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from this story.

**Warnings:This story contains S&M, D/s, and a helping of general mind fuckity-ness. IF YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT S&M OR D/s IS, DO NOT READ FURTHER. YOU WILL PROBABLY NOT ENJOY IT. Thank you.**

**Reborn  
Chapter 1: Desert Rain  
By: Naraku's Dark Soul**

The rain is cold on his bare skin. Even though he has been standing still, the frigid droplets pelting his nude form for many minutes, he does not feel cold. The pervading numbness that has taken hold of his soul refuses him even this small sensation. So he stands, eyes cast heavenward, unblinking, and waits for someone to find him. Perhaps the shock of being seen like this will awaken him from this unfeeling nightmare. He hopes this is the case. Yet still, he is alone in the dark storm; the roiling clouds offer him nothing, no solutions, no answers, nothing. His thoughts, cold and fleeting, are like the water that berates his body. He does not remember how he got to this desolate place where white sands stretch as far as the eye can see and crystal trees rise like jagged teeth from their mother sand. He does not remember his name, nor his appearance. All details have been taken from him along with his emotions. He is a clean slate, purified by the unnatural desert rain, ready to be made anew.

He looks down at his hands. They are calloused, but his nails are in good shape. He cups them together until the water streaming down his milky white arms fills them. He brings the pooled water to his mouth and drinks slowly, eyes closed, splashing the remainder over his head, a somehow less-than-holy gesture. He presses his hands to his face and runs his fingers through his slick hair, tangling his hands in the thick, wet strands. The water in his throat is as a living thing, a parasite sliding down and spreading inside him. But he _feels_ this as he has felt nothing since he awoke nude in the barren desert, his identity and emotions stripped from him.

The living water churns in him as he opens his eyes, suddenly and acutely aware of someone watching him. The rain lessens and quickly stops as he lets his arms drop limply to his sides, scanning the horizon for any missed sign of life. Nothing but pure white sand and dagger-like trees greets his eyes. He is alone, or so he thinks until he hears a soft rustling behind him. He turns slowly, pivoting on one foot, until he sees the one watching him. The watcher is tall and broad in the shoulders. His medium brown hair is slicked back, but not quite enough to tame the unruly ends. There is a slight smile on the man's handsome face and he stands with his feet firmly planted on the ground. Clearly, he is someone of importance. Perhaps it is this silent man who has taken away his memory, or maybe he is here to save him. Either option seems viable. He quickly takes in the watcher's white clothed form before his gaze returns to his brown eyes. The man's face looks unfinished to him. For some reason he feels like he has seen him before, but something is missing. He cocks his head slightly to the side, studying the other man for a moment before speaking.

"Glasses," he says, his voice smooth and even, ringing like a bell across his awareness.

The other man's smile widens a fraction of an inch and he does not reply at first, choosing instead to cross the small distance between them until they are face to face. The other man is slightly taller, and a weight settles in his stomach as the watcher leans in to whisper in his ear.

"It is good my Kyouka Suigetsu did not completely break you, Byakuya."

_Byakuya._ It holds a familiar feeling that no doubt means it must be his name. He blinks, memories trying to resurface, but they are as flame, flickering in and out of existence, impossible to hold on to. The watcher moves back until Byakuya can see him, and he catches hold of one of the memories inside of him, the other man's name, _Aizen_. Attached to it come feelings of desire and almost eclipsing that, shame. Before his muted brain can fully comprehend these new feelings, the man speaks again.

"You will stay," Aizen says, his calloused hand cupping Byakuya's chin. Byakuya remains silent, unsure how to respond to this command. His hand trails down Byakuya's neck and down his naked chest to his nipple. Already cold from the rain, it stands straight out and welcomes Aizen's touch. Even so, Byakuya sucks in a breath as it hardens further, a wave of heat passing through his numb limbs and striking the core of his being. His pupils dilate and he lets out a shaky breath as Aizen pinches his sensitive flesh, rolling his nipple slowly between his fingers. He leans in toward Byakuya again, his hair lightly brushing Byakuya's cheek as he licks his earlobe, teasing it with his tongue before biting down gently. Byakuya's knees falter slightly, the ghosts of past pleasure searing through his veins, as Aizen bites down harder on his flesh. He thinks of pushing the other man away from him, but finds he does not want to. The heat from Aizen's body next to his is refreshing after the unfeeling cold of the rain. The teeth clamped down on his earlobe and the hand playing with his nipple excite him. He does not remember his life, but _knows_ the feel of Aizen's body moving against his. He feels sure that he is doing something right. He wraps his arms around Aizen's back and tilts his head to the side in a gesture of acceptance.

As the first trickle of warm blood makes its way down his neck, countless, pink sakura petals dance in the breeze behind Aizen.

This is just a quick, short thing. It was meant to be longer, but I decided to break it up into at least two chapters for clarity. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter should be coming soon enough.

Edit: Thanks to Aie-myuu for pointing this out. I forgot to remove the html _italics_ tags, which resulted in "rogue I's." Sorry about that. I think I got them all now.


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